September 28, 2010

I Love These Tracts So Much... It Hurts!

20+ some years ago I was always going and hanging around the Old Erie Street Bookstore, one of those shops that miscreants go to and sit at the feet of a older guru type and he tells them stories, cool stories about eating acid and sneaking in to the first Bowie concert in the U.S. at the old Agora, stories about being teenagers skinny dipping in the then mayor of my hometown's backyard pond, that sort of thing, and well, more PG ones about selling books to Ravi Shankar. But yeah, he had all these fuck yeah books for sale, the Anarchist Cookbook, all the Re/Search titles, and a shitload of Loompanics.

Meanwhile, across a few states my friend Ed (name changed to protect the innocently guilty) was reading wacky books too, in particular Ivan Stang's High Weirdness By Mail. One of the things in the book was if you sent a postage paid envelope to a guy in California he would send you a stack of bible tracts. Ed made a cross out of foam core and this beauty was born.

Well, Ed is older now, in some ways has mellowed with age and has donated this cross to me. I took it home on the subway the other day and people were freaking out. An atheist got in my face about it and a fundamentalist too. I got invited to a breakfast at a local church and had a long conversation with a guy always hanging on my block. I was pretty happy for that one, his name was Wolfgang and he reminds me of Ozzy Osborne's mini-me.

So yeah, are you ready for my top 13 tracts on Ed's foam core cross? What Shape Is Your God is my favorite, which one is yours?

Probably the most impressive thing about the foam core cross is there is no Jack Chick on it.

I just had a fantastic daydream, what if things had turned out differently and these tracts featured Osiris or Apollonius of Tyana?

Check back in a couple of weeks for my favorite Brooklyn botanicas, oh hell, never mind. I may get my list finished, I may not. I have to go to New Orleans for a few days to find an apartment. Ok, I vow to finish it before I move. Promise.

Comments

Hard to imagine today that the only way to connect with weirdos around the country was via the US mail. Hand printed missives were so much more charming than the html blink tag. I tended to focus on the more iconoclastic mailers; tracts were a dime a pound and any trip to a public restroom could produce enough for whatever made you want to look at the things to begin with. I remember one tense trip back across the US border from Canada; we had a _lot_ of trouble crossing into Canada ( as in car searched, bend over and cough trouble ) and we figured every advantage was going to be needed crossing back. At every restroom along the way I'd cast the net and dump the catch on the dashboard of our rented van. Imagine our surprise when we hit the bridge; one old man at the checkpoint, "did ya like the festival? Yup! OK, welcome back!". I don't think he even noticed the tracts. Or maybe he did? That's the power of Jesus Christ folks, and don't forget it.

Sweet post! I really dig the (anti)Halloween-themed tracts! Twenty odd years ago, I also was one of those miscreants! Here is a tale I once heard in the store:

Wild Man Fischer just shows up in Cleveland out of the blue in hopes a record store will host an in-store with him. There were no takers so he is left wandering the streets in downtown. Mark and a pal are driving about town, spot him and ...ask him what is up. He tells of the failed attempt at a record store thing. He wants to get to the offices Warner Brothers (or whatever record label handled the distro of Bizarre at the time - remember, there was a time when every major record co. had an office in downtown Cleveland) so he can get cash for a bus ticket back to California. They offer to give him a lift to the office. He proceeds to get gooned out by something or other and grabs the steering wheel of the car - they nearly wreck. They stop and ask him to leave the car...how he got back to California is a mystery...

O.K. KEEEDZ. Class is now in session. The Wild Man Fischer tale was fairly spot on , though you left out the part about his strangeness at the former Kucinich hangout at Tony's diner at west 117th and Lorain and the waitresses reaction with her deftly aimed pitcher of water. Thanks for the kind words , and I trust that you will now order some books from olderiestreetbooks@sbcglobal.net. We live and breathe. Tales and stories are available on olderiestreetbooks @ blogger.com We also have mucho Northern soul , psyche , and jazz 45 and lp's for sale so send us your wants. Best wishes, Mark Stueve Old Erie Street Book Store . still happening at 2128 East Ninth Street Cleveland Ohio 44115